


Abandoned

by chali



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Touching, Sick Keith (Voltron), Slave Trade, Team as Family, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-06 22:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chali/pseuds/chali
Summary: Keith gets left behind by the Blades during a mission to take down an alien trafficking ring that they suspect is selling information to the Galra.





	Abandoned

"Come on! Come on, quickly! _Go_ , we have ships waiting for you!" Keith led the freed slaves, frightened and wide-eyed and trembling, down the long row of cells and to the door, where another Blade was waiting to lead them to the transports.

_There are so many of them..._

Keith kept his mask up, though it did little to protect him from the stench of filth and waste and blood and vomit and _death_ that permeated the cell block.

_This is hell._

" _Blades,"_  Kolivan's voice rang over his suit's comms, " _return to the transports immediately. There are Galra forces arriving, more than we had anticipated. We cannot risk the civilians' lives. We're leaving in five dobashes."_

"Got i-" Keith stopped when he heard it - sobbing, undoubtedly a _child's_ sobbing, coming from the end of the cell block. He began to turn back, when the other Blade grabbed his arm tightly and yanked him around again. 

"No time. We leave _now_."

Keith yanked out of the grip.

" _What_? We can't just - just _abandon_ a _child_ in a place like this! We can't abandon _anyone_ in a place like this! Are you _nuts_?"

"There's _no time._ Kolivan gave us our orders. Do not jeopardise the mission for the sake of one life. You should know that by now." Keith scowled behind the mask and shook his head, already turning walking back to the cells. 

"You take these people to the transports, I'll catch up."

"We _will_ leave without you. Do not doubt that."

And with that, the Blade was gone, the freed slaves following him. Keith ignored the uneasiness building in his stomsch, and began running down the long row of cells until he reached the end one, using his knife to pick the lock. It was so dark that he could barely see, but he stepped inside anyway and could just make out the small, huddled form shaking in the corner. He approached slowly and crouched in front of it.

"Hey," he reached out, but stopped when the child flinched away from him. "Hey, it's okay. It's _okay_ , I'm gonna get you out." He saw the wide, fearful eyes looking at him, and reluctantly removed his mask. He smiled, despite the fact the stench made his nose burn and his eyes water.

"Hey, come on. I can get you out. Just come with me-" his fingers brushed a leg, and the child screeched. "Shit. _Shit_. H-hey, _hey_ , shh. _Shh_. It's fine. Calm down. Shh."

He heard voices, voices that he knew weren't Blades. How long had it been? Had Kolivan left already? He looked at the screaming child in front of him, and threw caution to the wind.

He grabbed it around the waist, ignoring its small fists and feet beating at him, and ran back down the corridor. Before he reached the end, the alien traffickers - or what was left of them - were filling the doorway in front of him. The only exit. Keith counted about seven of them, but he could hear more coming.

" _Shit_."

Careful not to drop the squirming child, he drew his blade, changing it from knife to sword, and charged.

 _Too many_ , he realised almost immediately, even as he cut them down one after another. _There are too many, and I have to protect this child, but there are too many -_

A sharp blow to the back of his knees sent him crashing to the ground with a shout, and the child was wrenched from his grasp. 

" _No_!" He surged to his feet again, slicing through the wall of bodies around him, trying to reach the source of the screams, but there were just _too many_ of them.

Someone wrapped an arm around his wrist, yanking his whole arm back and wrestling his sword out of his hand. Another arm wrapped around his neck, and his knees were struck again, forcing him back to the ground. He reached up to claw at the person's eyes, but his hand was caught and its fingers bent cruelly back until he heard a sharp snap and screamed at the fire racing up his arm.

His scream was cut off by the grip around his neck tightening, and he gasped for air, still struggling even as his vision darkened around the edges. He shifted his head just enough that he was able to sink his teeth into the bare flesh of the hand by his shoulder, and drew in a rattling breath when he was released with a shout of pain. Before he could try to attack again, however, pain exploded in his temple, and he blacked out.

* * *

Keith woke slowly to an aching head and angry voices. He was being held upright - he could feel the tight grip on his arm, could feel every thick finger, every individual claw digging into his flesh through his suit. He tried to focus on what was being said around him. 

"... have escaped. The Galra left to pursue them."

"And the information?"

"They took it with them, I doubt they'll be back."

"So what about this? They'll want it, for questioning."

"They'll _want_ it, yes, but they aren't going to _get_  it. Look at it. It isn't Galra, it's something none of us have ever seen before. But it's with the Blades, so it _must_ be a half-breed. A _Galra_ half-breed. And you know how much _those_ sell for."

Keith felt ill, and tried to blame it on his probable concussion rather than the fear trying to consume him. 

" _We'll_ keep it, and sell it to the next pleasure barge we come across. They're bound to pay a hefty price for it."

"We should remove the suit. I've heard they have trackers in 'em."

"Get rid of the suit. Then take it back to the cells." Keith's eyes snapped open as he felt a hand at the top of his neck, pushing his hair aside to reach the zip to his suit. _Hell no_.

He started bucking, ignoring his throbbing head and the outright panic ballooning in his chest. He threw his head back, barely registering it making contact before throwing it forward again, biting hard into the hand holding him and not letting go even as hot blood filled his mouth.

He kicked out behind him. He wrenched his arms.

He couldn't get out. 

The aliens holding him shouted angrily, becoming increasingly bruised from Keith's attempts, but they held tight. A large, cruel looking alien grabbed Keith's head and _pried_ his jaw apart, releasing the hand trapped between his teeth. His mouth was held open as another person approached and forced a metal gag into his mouth, fastening it tightly behind his head.

He shouted around it as his jaw was released, and received a sharp blow in return. His head snapped to the side, and he sagged for a moment, trying not to vomit.

He sprang back into action when he felt the hand back at his neck.

It was useless. He felt his eyes burn as the suit was removed, another arm wrapped tightly around his throat to hold him in place, while cold hands peeled the fabric from his arms, jostling his broken fingers sickeningly, before restraining them again, as the alien in front of him ignored his kicks and yanked the rest of the suit off of him, leaving him naked and cold and afraid before them.

He felt their eyes crawling over him, and wanted to curl into a tight ball and hide himself from their eyes. He couldn't. Instead, he kept writhing and bucking, never giving up his fight to free himself. The alien in charge curled his lip and tilted his head, signalling for them to drag Keith back to the cells, struggling the whole time.

As they entered the corridor lined with cells Keith heard the child sobbing, from the first cell now, and again felt tears burning his eyes.

_I couldn't even save one child without messing things up._

He was thrown into the end cell, where the child had been, landing harshly on the damp floor. He sprang up again immediately, but before he could attack the large alien who had held his jaw open sunk his fist into Keith's stomach with merciless strength. Winded, Keith collapsed to his knees, and felt his arms wrenched again behind his back as metal cuffs were forced around his wrists.

He tugged against them - and screamed into the gag as electricity shot through his body. It ended after a few seconds, leaving Keith panting on the floor as his captors smirked above him.

The large alien leaned down and lifted Keith by his damp hair, pulling on his tender temple. Keith felt hot breath on his bare throat, and tried to turn away, but was held in place. The alien sneered, and caught Keith's frightened gaze with his own malicious one.

"You better stop your squirming and whining - you're making us angry. You won't like us when we're _angry_. Who knows, we might end up using _you_ to blow off some steam," he leaned forward until his lips brushed Keith's ear, making him shudder. "Might hurt your selling price, but _hey_ , I'm sure our buyers will understand. A half-breed as rare as you is too hard to resist." He moved his nose into Keith's hair and _sniffed_ , and Keith jerked away, losing his balance and falling backwards. The traffickers laughed, and finally left him.

Keith pushed himself into the corner, scraping his bare skin against the floor. He curled as tightly into himself as he could, and tried not to panic. Tried not to think about the reality of his situation. 

He had been abandoned.

He was _alone_. 

* * *

His captors came back only once. 

Keith was drifting uneasily - the wound on his head was making it difficult for him to think clearly, to bury his fear and be _vigilant_ \- when they burst into his cell. They grabbed him, and lifted him roughly until he was on his knees before them. He saw their vile grins, and looked away. Or tried to. 

One grabbed the back of the gag still fastened tightly around his head, tilting his face upwards and shining a torch into his eyes, leaving stains on his vision whenever they moved it away. They ran hands through his hair, over his back and chest and groin, forced his fingers and toes apart as they examined his hands and feet. They touched and prodded him, uncaring of his trembling and growling and glaring, and the occasional shocks that ran through his body when he pulled on the cuffs too hard. 

_A slave. That's all they see me as._

_I need to get out of here._

Finally, after they had assessed all that they wanted to, they turned to leave, and Keith made his move. He charged, slamming one of the aliens into the bars in front of him. He heard its head slam into the unyielding metal, and it slumped to ground unconscious. Keith turned to the next alien - and collapsed to the ground as his cuffs shocked him again. 

_Shit, they have controls, too?_

_No. No. No._

He tried to fight past it, to get his arms under him and attack, fight, get out of there - but a foot between his shoulder blades pushed him back down again, roughly. 

"Get him out of here," the voice above him growled, "I'll deal with this." Keith blearily watched the unconscious body being dragged from his cell, before the foot lifted from his back and connected with his ribs instead. He cried out through the gag, and curled in on himself, trying to shield his vulnerable chest from the blows. It didn't do much. 

By the time he was left alone again he was bruised and bloody, and more exhausted than he could remember having felt in a _long_ time. He groaned as he shifted to lean back against the wall again.

He could taste blood. Whether his own, or remnants from the hand he had bitten, Keith couldn't be sure. It made him feel nauseated nonetheless as he struggled to swallow it. 

He closed his eyes, and thought of Voltron. 

He thought of Lance, with his nonsensical rambling that Keith mostly only _pretended_ annoyed him, when in fact he usually found it oddly comforting. Their arguments were a strange form of entertainment, but 'entertaining' was the best word for them. 

He thought of Pidge, how she always seemed to know _exactly_ what he was thinking, what he needed. When he needed help, she helped him. When he needed encouragement, she gave it to him. When he needed silent companionship, she was there.

He thought about Hunk, and his cooking. _God_ , his cooking. Keith had never experienced anything like it in his life. He had always heard about the beauty of a home-cooked meal, but had never imagined he would actually get to _experience_ one. Hunk had changed that. 

Keith thought of Shiro. His brother.

He wanted Shiro so badly it ached alongside his bruises. He wanted Shiro's calmness, his solidarity. He wanted the sense of safety that Shiro always seemed to _radiate_ , the feeling of _belonging_ that filled Keith up whenever he was with him. 

He felt none of that now. Now, all he felt was cold, and loneliness, and fear. And _weakness_. He hadn't fought hard enough, and as a result he was stuck here, and the child - a _child_ \- was stuck here with him, in this place. This horrible, _horrible_ place. All because Keith couldn't get them out in time. 

He swallowed back the tears and the vomit and the screams building in his throat. He closed his eyes. He thought of Voltron. 

He thought of _home_. 

* * *

Keith didn't bother trying to keep track of how long he'd been there. All he knew was that he'd gone a dangerously long time in that cold, filthy cell without any food or water, and his health was starting to decline.

_Days? Have I been here for days already?_

His stomach was cramping. There was a scratchiness in his throat that had him constantly coughing into his gag - wet with phlegm and sweat and blood - sharp pains running through his bruised chest. The cell seemed to have gotten colder, but Keith knew that only meant he had a fever. A bad one. He didn't sleep. It was more like passing out, and each time he woke he only felt more exhausted than before. 

He had swallowed his pride at one point and tried shouting hoarsely through the gag, tried asking for water, just enough to keep him _alive -_  but all he'd received in response was more sobbing from the child at the end of the corridor. 

He had laughed bitterly - and maybe slightly hysterically - at the thought of the traffickers coming to retrieve him for their buyers, only to find him dead in his cell.

 _Would serve them right._  

He paced until his bare feet blistered, then paced again until the blisters burst. He curled into the corner, pulling his knees to his chest in a futile attempt to preserve body heat that had already abandoned him.

_Just like everyone else has._

He scratched his nails until they bled against the rough metal wall behind him, trying to use the burning agony of the broken bones grinding against each other to anchor him. 

He passed out. 

He woke. 

He shook. 

He paced. 

He curled in the corner. 

He scratched. 

He coughed.

The sobbing had ceased at some point, and Keith was left wondering if there was a corpse lying a handful of cells down from him. 

* * *

When rescue finally did come, Keith could barely even lift his head. The sounds of blasters and shouting came to him through a thick fog. He distantly heard the sound of his cell door being forced open, and looked up through heavily lidded eyes when a bright light shone on his face.

"... Christ, _Keith_..."

_I know that voice._

"... here! Shiro! Here!"

 _Shiro? I must be hallucinating_.

"...eith? Keith, buddy, can you hear me? Oh _man_..."

A hand pulled at the gag, tipping his heavy head forward to access the mechanism to unlock it. Keith coughed painfully when it was removed from his mouth, slowly rotating his aching jaw and licking his dry, cracked lips. He forced what little energy he had left into focusing on the face before him.

" _L-Lance_?" Blue eyes filled with tears as Lance smiled at him.

"Yeah, man, I'm here. We're here, okay? I'm so sorry. _So_ sorry we took so long. We-"

"Keith!"

"Sh'ro?" He turned his head too fast and nearly tipped over, but strong arms caught him, and held him tight.

He remembered cruel fingers and unwelcome touches and hot breath crawling along his flesh. He was too exhausted to fight, to escape. He hung there limply. 

"... to cover himself with, he must be _freezing_. Hunk, Pidge, Allura, see if you guys can find his suit and knife somewhere, surely they still have them-" 

"Sh'ro..."

"Keith, hey. It's okay, we're here now. We won't leave you again-"

Lance reappeared, carrying a piece of rich blue fabric that Keith somehow recognised - it had been hanging around the shoulders of one of the traffickers that had beat him. Shiro took the cloak from Lance and draped it around Keith's shoulders. Keith saw blood on the corner, and would have smiled, but he suddenly remembered - 

"Sh'ro, the ch-" he broke off in another coughing fit, heaving where he was pressed against Shiro's chest. The older man pushed him back slightly, supporting his shoulders, as Lance lifted the cloak from his back, tryingto get him out of the cuffs without electrocuting him. Keith pushed past his sickening discomfort, and tried again.

"The - the ch-child - Shiro, the _child_ -"

"What - oh _shit_. Lance, go check the other cells. We'll get Pidge to remove the cuffs back at the Castle. We need to go _now_."

"Right."

"Keith," Shiro's face was right next to his again - _too close_. Keith flinched. Shiro flinched. " _Keith_." He sounded heartbroken, and Keith was flooded with delirious guilt.

"'m sorry..."

"N-no! No, Keith, please. Please don't apologise. Just - can I - I need to carry you out, okay? Can I lift you?" Keith gulped, and nodded, and braced himself as Shiro bent to wrap an arm around his shoulders and another under his knees.

Shiro's flesh felt like sandpaper on his own, and Keith felt bile crawling up his throat. He pushed weakly at Shiro's chest before he could be lifted, and leaned back into the corner as he began to heave. There was nothing to come up, and it only served to agitate his throbbing ribs. 

"Oh, Keith..." Keith leaned back, shaking, and nodded his head at Shiro. He felt the other man hesitate before getting back into position and standing with Keith in his arms in one fluid motion. Keith managed to bite back a groan, but couldn't hold in his coughs.

"...in the other cell," he heard Lance saying from the hallway. "It's unconscious, and almost in as bad a shape as Keith is, but it's alive." 

 _Alive. It's alive_. 

"Thank _fuck_..." Keith whispered.

Then he passed out. 

* * *

When Keith stumbled out of the healing pod, his legs were too weak to support him, and he immediately plummeted to the ground. Before he could make contact, however, a pair of large, solid arms caught him around his shoulders and chest.

He panicked.

He felt his elbow connect with something, and was released with a grunt of pain. He landed harshly on his bare knees, and just barely managed to throw out his arms in time to stop himself faceplanting on the floor.

He couldn't breathe. 

He was cold. The air was _cold_ on his bare flesh, and the feeling of being held against his will, of some _stranger_ touching him, pressing against him, lingered even as he knelt alone on the floor. 

He was naked. And he was cold. And he was _alone_. 

Maybe that wasn't a healing pod. Was he still there? Had it been a hallucination after all? Or had he really been _sold_ -

"Keith." 

He gasped, chest heaving, and looked up, right into the eyes of Shiro. His brother. Sitting a few paces away from him, looking absolutely devastated, with tears in his eyes and unhappy lines around his mouth and his hands wringing in that way they did only when he was especially anxious - Shiro was here. Keith was here. 

He was _home_. 

"Shiro," he whispered it. "Shiro. _Shiro_. I-" 

There was movement behind him, and he turned sharply, finding the other Paladins standing behind him, further away from him than Shiro was.

Allura held her hands clasped in front of her, looking at him with sadness and regret and _fury_ burning in her eyes. Lance was holding Hunk's elbow, who had an arm wrapped around his midriff. Pidge was holding her green blanket, the one she always said reminded her of Earth. She caught him looking at it and tried to smile, holding it out to him carefully. 

Keith swallowed and nodded, and Pidge slowly moved forward to drape it around his shoulders, her hands lingering only a second longer than they needed to. Keith nodded again, gratefully, and closed his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. 

"Keith," Shiro spoke quietly, soothingly. "Keith, it's okay. You're okay now. We took out the whole crew of the ship that you were on, there's none of them left. And the child-" Keith's eyes snapped open and Shiro spoke faster, "we got her out. She came out of her pod two days ago, and we managed to get her back to her home planet, when she finally calmed down enough to tell us where it was. She's fine. _You're_ fine. You're home. Okay? You're home." Keith spoke around the dryness in his throat. 

"H-how long?" His voice was raspy, and Shiro looked at Coran sharply, the Altean quickly handing him a water pouch, which Shiro in turn passed to Keith. Keith accepted it gratefully, and through sheer force of will stopped himself from downing it in one gulp. 

"It's been almost a week," Shiro said, "since we got you out. Though - i-it took us almost as much time to even _find_ you. It was really only sheer dumb luck that Lance contacted the Blades asking for you. I honestly don't think Kolivan would have - anyway, I - we're sorry. We're _so_ sorry. For taking so long." Keith shook his head. 

"Don't be. It - _I_ took too long. To get out. The child. It - she wouldn't come with me, she was terrified. I should've just grabbed her and gone. It was _my_ f-" 

"Dude, if you say this is your fault, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought." He turned and gave Lance as much of a glare as he could muster, which he imagined looked pretty pathetic as he sat huddled and shaking and naked on the floor. 

It made Lance all but weep with joy, grinning so widely it looked painful. 

"Lance is right, though, Keith," Pidge said, in a small, scared voice. She looked ill. "You can't honestly blame yourself for this? Teammates should _never_ leave each other behind, and no one should ever leave a - a _child_ in a place like _that_. You did the right thing, Keith. This is all just so - so _fucked_ _up_ -" 

"Yeah, man," Hunk cut in, moving the hand wrapped around his ribs to place on Pidge's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself. We're all just so happy you're okay, y'know? You were in a really bad way when we found you..."

"Y-yeah," Keith said, trying to think through the panic crawling up his chest and into his throat again. "I, uh, I honestly can't even remember most of it. It, uh..." he took a shuddering breath, and Shiro suddenly spoke again. 

"Okay. Hunk. Why don't you go get some food sorted for Keith, while I help him to his room. God knows you probably want a hot shower, right buddy?" Keith and Hunk both nodded mutely, and Hunk, Pidge and Lance shuffled out of the room, giving Keith small, exhausted smiles as they went. 

"Keith," he turned to Allura, who had been completely silent until then. She stepped forward slightly, and moved her hands so that they were clasped behind her back. "I'm sorry, too. I know that it was out of all of our control, your's included, but I still wish I had pushed harder or got to you sooner and - no. That's not - what I'm trying to say is. I'm so happy you're safe. I _truly_ am." She looked like she was going to come closer still, but stopped herself, and all but fled out the door. 

Coran sniffled loudly, and only said, rather gruffly, "Yes. What she said," before turning away and becoming very interested in the plain white wall in front of him. Shiro huffed a fond laugh, and looked at Keith, waiting. 

Keith swallowed thickly, and tugged the blanket - soft, warm, smelling of oil and sweat and sleep and _Pidge_ \- tighter around his shoulders. He pushed himself up, standing shakily, the edge of the fabric ending just below his knees.

Shiro had followed him up, but remained a short distance away, arms outstretched slightly as though to catch Keith should he fall. He supposed he sort of did fall - he had tried to step forward, to indicate to Shiro that it was fine, he could touch him, he could handle it - when he realised his legs were still in that weak, jelly-like stage that usually only lasted a few minutes after emerging from a pod. 

Shiro caught him before he went sprawling. They both elected to ignore Keith's flinch, and together made their slow, limping way to Keith's room. 

(there was still a part of him that marvelled at the fact that they had actually _kept_ it - his _room_ \- even though he had been gone for weeks, _months_ , with the Blades. As though he was still a part of Voltron, still a part of the team, still a part of the _family_ ) 

When they finally got there, Keith was shaking again, and his chest felt tight. He hadn't experienced a panic attack since he'd heard about Kerberos, hadn't even had one while he was trapped and dying in that cell, but he knew he was about to have one now. And Shiro knew it too, judging by how he sped up until he was all but dragging Keith into his bathroom, sitting him carefully on the toilet seat and stepping back again to crouch in front of him. 

Keith leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his head in his hands. His chest felt painfully tight. It felt like the cuffs were shocking him again - the way his breath would catch in his throat, his heart would pound painfully in his chest, his limbs would seize up, and afterwards would be heavy and numb and aching.

Hands covered his own, one warm and one cold, and gently pried his fingers away from where they were digging into his scalp. Shiro pulled his hands down, shuffling closer simultaneously, until he held them between their bodies. He met Keith's gaze and breathed, slowly and steadily, waiting patiently for Keith to try to meet his pattern.

Keith looked at him through blurry eyes, taking in his tired face, his weary eyes the worried curve of his mouth. The way his hair stuck up, betraying the fact that he had fallen asleep sitting up again, one hand tangled in his white streak. The way that his expression, so exhausted and afraid and angry, still managed to look warm, and supporting, and loving. 

Keith looked at Shiro, and swallowed back his fear (his stupid, stupid, _stupid_ fear) and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Shiro's shoulder and sobbing in a way he hadn't since _before_ Kerberos.

The way only Shiro had seen him cry. The way only Shiro was _allowed_ to see him cry. 

"Shiro. Sh-Shiro - I _t-tried_. I really did - I - I couldn't-"

"I know, Keith. I know. It's not your fault. You're safe now. You're home now. I've got you, it's fine."

They held each other, unknowing and uncaring of how much time passed, until Keith calmed down. When he pulled back, and leaned against the wall behind him, exhausted, Shiro cleared his throat. When Keith looked at him, his face was apologetic.

"Keith, I'm not going to get you to relive it," he said quietly. "At least, not right now. Not until you're ready to. And if you're never ready to, that's fine. But I - I _need_ to know. Did they - did they hurt you?" Keith blinked at him.

"You know that they did."

"I - that's not what I meant."

He looked at Keith with frightened, red-rimmed eyes. Keith swallowed thickly and shook his head, looking away.

" _Keith_ -"

"I promise, they didn't. They - they - I don't know, they made threats. But they didn't actually - _do_ anything. Beyond - taking my clothes off and touching me and shit. I promise Shiro, they didn't do anything-"

"That's bad enough, Keith. Don't try to pretend it isn't. We both know how much you hate people you don't know so much as shaking your hand without your permission, so _that_  -" he closed his eyes shook his head, looking nauseated. "I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_ sorry, Keith. Just - take as much time as you need, okay? The others get it. I won't tell them anything you don't want me to, but they _get_ it. They don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"They don't, though," Shiro gave him a look, and Keith let out a sharp, irritated breath through his nose. "I mean it, Shiro. I - in that cell, thinking of you guys was the only thing that kept me going. And I - I still can't believe that I'm even _here_ right now. I don't want to be - to flinch every time Lance puts a hand on my shoulder, or Hunk goes in for a hug, or Pidge grabs my hand. I was finally able to _stop_ doing shit like that, and now-" he was getting agitated again, and Shiro took his hand back in his.

"I know, Keith. But it'll be fine. This trauma, it'll pass. It might take some more time, but it will. I _know_ it will, because I've seen you overcome so much hardship already. I know you can overcome this. You just need to give yourself time." Keith nodded wearily, and ran a tired hand down his face. Shiro nodded too, and stood.

"Right, you up for a shower?" Keith thought, and nodded. "Okay, you do that. And I'll leave some clothes for you by the door. You look pretty beat, but you need to eat something before you can sleep. I'll ask Hunk to bring something to your room." Keith felt tears burning his eyes again, though for another reason entirely. He could only nod. Shiro smiled at him, and left.

Keith sat for a few more minutes, thinking about everything Shiro had told him. He shook himself, and stood. 

When he got into the shower - too hot, but after days in the cold it felt heavenly - he finally realised just how dirty he really was. He watched how the water turned brown and orange around his feet, felt how his hair was matted and knotted and clung to his head in clumps, saw that his cracked fingernails had blood and grime underneath them that he didn't think was going to come out for weeks.

He thought about Shiro clinging to him, holding him close as he broke down, and was overwhelmed again with sheer _love_ for his brother.

Keith scrubbed himself until his skin was red and tender. His stomach began growling after about ten minutes, then it began cramping. He climbed out not long after that.

True to his word, Shiro had left a small pile of neatly folded clothes outside the door. Keith felt his eyes burning again, and quickly pulled the pile into the bathroom with him before closing the door. 

He held the clothes in his hands, remembering how it felt to have his suit stripped away - _ripped_ away - as cruel, cruel strangers held him down-

Keith took a shuddering breath. Then he dressed himself and walked into his bedroom.

Shiro was asleep on his bed.

Keith stood for a moment, uncertain, then stepped forward, closing the bathroom door behind him. At the soft noise, Shiro sprang up, making Keith jump slightly. The older man searched the room for the threat, before his eyes landed on Keith and he relaxed immediately.

"Hey, sorry," he climbed off the bed, rubbing his eyes, and ignoring Keith's silence. "Here, Hunk brought you some food. It isn't much, but you need to take it slow, get your appetite back in order." He retrieved a plate from Keith's desk and uncovered it, revealing the steaming, green goo underneath it.

Keith didn't think he'd ever understand how Hunk managed to make that stuff taste so damn _good_.

He and Shiro sat on the bed, saying nothing as Keith ate - as slowly as he was able to force himself to. After he was finished, Shiro put the plate back on the desk, and turned back to the bed, which Keith was already climbing into.

"Um," Keith turned to him, eyes heavy, "do you... want me to leave?" Keith's eyes widened, and he felt himself pale, and he realised that  _no, no I don't want to be alone_ , _I can't be alone, not again -_

Shiro read it all in his face, and kicked off his boots before lying on the floor next to the bed. Keith shook his head and reached down to grab Shiro's arm, yanking him up into the bed with him. Shiro made a small noise, whether of surprise or relief or sadness Keith couldn't tell, and shifted so that he and Keith were facing each other, their knees touching.

"Is this okay, Keith?" Keith nodded.

"Yeah. I just - I don't want to be alone. I mean, I _can't_ be alone. I just - when I came out of the pod, and - I just thought I was alone again. That I was back in the cell. Or - or that they'd _sold_ me, like they said they would. And I - I can't-"

"Okay. Okay, I'll be here, as long as you need me. I promise, Keith, I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. You'll stay here, in the Castle, with us, for as long as you want to. This is your home, Keith, always." Keith nodded, and closed his eyes.

He listened to Shiro's steady breathing, and matched his own to it. He kept himself aware of Shiro's knees against his, of how he had allowed this touch, he had initiated this touch, and if he didn't want it anymore all he had to do was say so, and it would be gone.

He didn't want it gone. 

He listened to Shiro's breathing, and felt his presence beside him, and let it lull him to sleep. 

* * *

When Keith snapped awake in the middle of the night, sitting up sharply, chest heaving, clothes damp with sweat and clinging to his skin, it took him a moment to remember that he wasn't alone. It took him a longer moment to realise that he and _Shiro_ weren't alone. 

He looked past Shiro, still sleeping beside him, and squinted through in the dim lighting, just barely making out five other sleeping forms in different positions around the room. 

Pidge looked to be beside the bed, curled up tightly under her blanket next to Lance. Hunk and Allura were positioned by the door, one on either side. Coran was slumped in Keith's chair, head tipped back, open mouth emitting faint snores on every inhale. 

Keith looked at them, and listened to them, and felt them all there with him. 

When he lay back down he was crying again. He fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> The prompt for this was Forcibly Stripped. If you want to request anything else from my Bingo card, find me on Tumblr - cha-lii


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